The Deepest Cut
by Sarah LoTuS
Summary: Alex celebrates the first anniversary of her transfer to the Water Rats, but she notices that someone doesn't feel like partying.


**_The Deepest Cut_**

Author's note: Some depressing music, a bottle of vodka, a packet of tim tams (double coat) and an idea   
that popped into my head while I was bored out of my brain at work.

Dedicated to Esme, 'cause it was her comment about how it would be bad if the writers tried to get Jack and Alex together straightaway that inspired this.

Summary: Alex St Clare is celebrating the first anniversary of her transfer to the Water Police, but she   
notices that there is one person who doesn't feel much like partying.

Disclaimer: the characters and settings in this story belong to Hal McElroy and Southern Star. The lyrics   
("The First Cut Is The Deepest") belong to Cat Stevens, except the last stanza, ("It's Been a Long Time")   
which belongs to Steven Van Zandt. This strange arrangement of letters and spaces is mine.

  
The Deepest Cut   
4-7 February, 2000

Alex St Clair smiled as she raised her middy of beer. "Here's to me surviving my first year with the Water Rats!" Her workmates around the table cheered and raised their glasses. All but one.   
Jack raised his glass politely, but he didn't cheer, and he didn't smile. Then again, Jack Christey hardly ever smiled.   
Alex's good cheer faded a little. She wished he would talk to her, but after a year of being partners, he was still a closed book. She wondered if he talked to anyone. He and Helen shared a sympathetic look every now and then, but she didn't think any of the others knew him any better than she did, except perhaps Mick, and men never **_really_** talked to each other anyway--that fact was well documented.   
She watched him drink a whole beer in a matter of seconds and order another one. Depression hung over   
him like a cloud, and the walls he'd erected between himself and his fellows were palpable.   
Alex was momentarily distracted from her thoughts by Gavin laying a hand on her arm to tell her some   
awful blonde joke. He was obviously too drunk to notice the colour of her hair, she thought drolly.   
Obviously hurt when she didn't laugh, he told her huffily, "Well, Rachel would've thought it was hilarious."   
The mention of her predecessor's name turned the mood somber. Jack took advantage of the break in   
conversation to announce that he was heading home for the night.   
"I'd better be going, too," Alex told them, hastily getting up.   
"I'll bet they're both off to some secret rendezvous," giggled Janevski. Alex glared at her, wondering how anyone could be so insensitive. She hoped Jack hadn't heard. Walking out of the bar and into the carpark, she looked around for him, hoping he hadn't left already.   
"Jack," she said, when she caught sight of him fumbling with his keys. He was obviously the worse for   
wear; when he turned towards her she noticed how bloodshot his eyes were.   
"What are you doing out here?" he asked, "Aren't you missing your party?"   
She didn't miss the bitterness in his voice. "Do you resent me that much, Jack?" she asked.   
He shook his head, sighing. "I don't resent you," he finally admitted. "I just don't feel much like partying."   
"Neither do I, really," she told him. "C'mon, you shouldn't be driving. I'll give you a lift."   
For a moment she thought he would refuse, but instead he tucked his keys back into his pocket and   
followed her to her car.   
He didn't say a word through the entire journey, and she didn't press him. When she parked the car in front of his house, however, he seemed to become animate out of habit.   
"Coffee?" he offered.   
"Do you have tea?" she asked.   
He led her inside, switching on the light and filling his kettle with water. While he waited for it to boil, he   
pulled two mugs out of the cupboard, added a teabag to one and a spoonful of instant coffee to the other.   
"Rachel would kill me if she knew I was drinking instant," he muttered, half to himself.   
He added the boiling water to both cups first, then a splash of milk. "Sugar?"   
She shook her head. He then spun the top off of a bottle of vodka and added a liberal amount to his coffee.   
"Hey," she protested as he replaced the top, "Can't I have any?"   
Wordlessly, he poured some into her tea before replacing the bottle in its rightful position.   
"The couch would be more comfortable," he told her, motioning.   
She took her tea and sat down next to him, sipping slowly at first, but taking larger mouthfuls as it cooled. The alcohol made her brave, and she leaned in closer to him.   
She didn't know why she did it. She certainly hadn't planned it, but before she could warn herself that   
perhaps it wasn't the best idea, she found herself kissing him. He opened his mouth to her automatically,   
but when she let out her breath in a sigh, he jerked away from her as if he'd been bitten.   
"What?" she asked, knowing the answer before the question had passed her lips.   
He sighed, heavily. "It's not you," he told her.

_I would have given you all of my heart_   
_But there's someone who's torn it apart_   
_And she's taken almost all that I've got_   
_But if you want I'll try to love again_   
_Baby, I'll try to love again, but I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_   
_Baby I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_

"It's not who I am, Jack, is it? It's who I'm not." Alex sighed. The ghost of Rachel Goldstein stood between them, like a dagger pointed at anyone who tried to get past.   
He nodded, sadly. She understood.   
"Will you tell me about her?"   
He nodded, then was silent for a minute, deciding what to say.   
"She died in my arms," he began. "One year and two weeks ago."   
"Oh, Jack, I'm sorry!" she said vehemently, laying a comforting hand on his arm. "I didn't think... Of course the anniversaries would coincide. No wonder you don't feel like celebrating..." she realised that she was babbling to fill the silence, so she shut her mouth.   
"It's all right," he told her. "I'm sorry for bringing you down, too." He stared at his coffee for a minute,   
reflecting. Alex waited for him to continue.   
"She was just so..." he trailed off. "She was totally fearless, or at least I thought she was. I mean, you have to be, in this job, but she never even thought twice about it. She just did what she had to do. Then she died in my arms," he said again.   
"She was terrified. She tried to be brave, but I saw it in her eyes."   
"Oh, Jack."

_'Cause when it comes to being lucky, she's cursed_   
_And when it comes to loving me, she's worst_   
_But when it comes to being loved, she's first_   
_That's how I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_   
_Baby I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_

He was staring straight ahead, reliving the memory. Alex couldn't help but feel like she was in the way, but all of a sudden he focused on her again.   
"She was a great mother, too. I went to see her son the other day, figured she would want me to. She loved him so much. You should have seen the smile on her face when she talked about him." He sighed. "I used to wish she would smile like that thinking about me," he admitted.   
"I'm sure she did, Jack."   
He shook his head. "You know she never even told me that she loved me? She wasn't much of a talker.   
Her Dad gave me her diary after she died. I didn't even know she kept one."   
Unsure what to say, Alex settled for rubbing her hand up and down his arm in what she hoped was a   
soothing fashion.   
"And now it's more than a year later, and I still expect her to walk in here, telling me to pull my socks up   
'cause she's back in town," he finished.   
"She wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, Jack."   
"Yeah, I know," he answered, his voice cracking on the last syllable.   
Alex stopped rubbing his arm and squeezed his hand. Jack took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears in,   
but a sob escaped him, and suddenly he broke down.   
Without even thinking about it, Alex pulled him into her arms and held him, rocking him back and forth,   
wondering what she should do. Should she go, or stay? Should she speak or just listen?   
He finally quieted down, breathing slower and more deeply, and when she loosened her grip on him, he   
pulled away to look her in the face.

_I still want you by my side_   
_Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried_   
_'Cause I'm sure gonna give you a try_   
_And if you want I'll try to love again_   
_Baby, I'll try to love again, but I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_   
_Baby I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_

He was surprised to note that her eyes were misted over in sympathy. She laid a hand on his cheek, saying nothing.   
Jack reached out for the coffee he'd put down and drank the last mouthful. He made a face. It was cold and it tasted funny. He banged the mug back down on the coffee table and got up, heading for the kitchen again.   
Alex followed. He wondered why she hadn't left already; he wasn't exactly the best company.   
He also wondered why he didn't want her to leave.   
He picked up a small glass and filled it with bourbon. Without saying a word, she got herself a glass and   
held it out for him.   
They sat on the couch in total silence, until their glasses were empty.   
"Do you want me to go?" Alex asked, as the silence stretched even longer.   
"No," he answered quickly, then added, "Unless you want to?"   
She shook her head. "No, I'm right."   
They lapsed into silence again.   
Alex studied her partner covertly, thinking about that interrupted kiss. She was attracted to him, there was no denying that any longer, but she knew that he wasn't ready for a new relationship.

_'Cause when it comes to being lucky, she's cursed_   
_And when it comes to loving me, she's worst_   
_But when it comes to being loved, she's first_   
_That's how I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_   
_Baby I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_

"Jack," she began, suddenly feeling the need to apologise. "I'm sorry about before. About kissing you, I   
mean."   
He shook his head, smiling sadly. "It's okay. I should probably be over it by now."   
"No!" she protested.   
He looked up, surprised at her vehemence.   
"Did I ever tell you why I became a cop, Jack?" she asked.   
He shook his head.   
"Well, I used to be an ordinary teenager," she began. "No direction, I didn't know what I wanted to be. I had a boyfriend I'd been seeing since I was in high school, and we were thinking of getting married. I figured I'd be a housewife or something until I thought of something better. One night, we went to this party, and someone offered us some speed. I said no, but he wanted to try it. Just once, he said." She paused, taking a few quiet breaths.   
"And he overdosed?" Jack asked.   
She nodded. "The paramedics didn't get there in time."   
"So you decided to go on a crusade to rid the streets of drugs?"   
"Yeah, that's about the size of it," she agreed. "It was almost ten years ago now," she told him, "But I still think of him, now and then; and wonder what my life would have been like if he hadn't taken that stuff. And it **_still_** hurts," she emphasised. She laid a hand on his arm. "You won't forget her, Jack; and if you really loved her, it will never stop hurting, but you learn to live with it."

_The first cut is the deepest_   
_Baby I know_   
_The first cut is the deepest_

They looked at each other for a long minute, each contemplating the truths they had learned about the   
other.   
Alex picked up the two empty glasses from the table. "Another one?" she asked.   
He nodded, and started to get up.   
"No, it's all right, I know where it is," she laughed. A minute later she returned, handing one glass to him.   
"To Rachel," Alex said softly, raising her glass. Jack met her eyes and tapped his glass against hers.

_It's been a long time since we laughed together_   
_It's been a long time since we cried_   
_Raise your glass for the comrades we've lost_   
_My friend it's been a long, long time_

"Thank you," he said simply, as both drank.   
And the ghost of Rachel Goldstein smiled.

~finis

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